^^IJ^^^r^^fl 


<An  Idyll  of  Bethlehem 


PS3503 

.U8G45 


David  De  forest  Ourrell 


tihxaxy  of  trhe  Cheolojical  ^tminavy 

princeton  •  new  jersey 

•3  ^Re- 
presented BY 

The  Estate   of 
Harold  McAfee  Robinson,   D.D. 


^^^,/  f/^ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2010  witii  funding  from 

Princeton  Tineological  Seminary  Library 


lnttp://www.arcliive.org/details/giftidyllofbetlilOOburr 


THE  GIFT 


■^ — .. 


— » >  -    '*>.■ 


m 


oTli:^ 


xv-. 


,^<^i 


^^  This  is  the  Christ     .      .      .     And  what 
wilt  thou  give  him  ?  " 


se3S5^^^^^^ 


.Ml^"'f1^)lffn^ 


"-(&. 


"^^Qfi 


THE  GIFT 

^n  Idyll  of  Bethlehem 


By 
DAVID  DE  FOREST  BURRELL 


New  York        Chicago        Toronto 

Fleming    H.  Revell   Company 

London         and         Edinburgh 


fe 


Copyright,  19 1 5,  by 
FLEMING  II.  REVELL  COMPANY 


yfe^ 


i 

fl 


^^' 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago:  125  North  Wabash  Ave. 
Toronto:  25  Richmond  Street,  W. 
London:  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:      100    Princes    Street 


-^^r-— 


THE    GIFT 


HE  boy  Joshua  was  weary- 
ing of  school.  All  through 
a  sunny  winter's  morning 
the  sparrows  in  the  bush 
beside  the  synagogue 
door  had  chirped  madly  to  him  to  come 
out.  From  his  place  at  the  end  of  the 
half-circle  of  boys  sitting  cross-legged  on 
the  floor  he  could  look  out  at  the  open 
door,  across  the  slope,  to  the  old  pine 
grove  whose  tree-tops,  in  a  gentle  breeze, 
beckoned  him  out  into  a  golden  world. 
Rabbi  Simeon  was  not  very  interesting. 
Joshua  was  tired  of  learning  lengthy 
chapters  out  of  the  Law  ;  and  the  rabbi 
had  a  provoking  way  of  teaching  the 
Scriptures  without  teaching  what  they 
meant.  He  was  doing  so  now.  A 
[5] 


THE       GIFT 


(^ 


t,    ( 


KH  A^ 


SI 


It;. 


sonorous  line  would  issue  from  his  lips, 
to  be  echoed  and  reechoed  from  the  lips 
of  the  boys.  Just  now  it  was  one  of  the 
Psalms : 

**  Give  the  king  thy  judgments,  O  God, 
And  thy  righteousness  unto  the  king's 
son.  .  .  ." 

Outside,  a  dog  came  and  sat  in  the 
dusty  road,  eyeing  the  synagogue  doors 
expectantly.  Joshua  watched  him,  the 
lesson  droning  on  about  his  ears  the 
while : 

.  "  The  kings  of  Tarshish  and  of  the  isles 
shall  render  tribute  : 
The  kings  of  Sheba  and  Seba  shall 
offer  gifts.   ..." 

The  vivid  image  caught  Joshua's  atten- 
tion. His  childish  imagination  saw  in  a 
flash  a  throne-room  filled  with  golden 
light,  the  great  king  on  his  ivory  throne, 
and  men, — kings  themselves  ! — pouring 
out  before  him  precious  gifts.  .  .  .  The 
[6] 


S 


m 


HI 


u 


^} 


^ 


1 


"Mi 

Ma 


THE       GIFT 

dog  outside  was  forgotten  ;  Joshua's  eyes 
were  fixed  at  last  on  the  rabbi : 


For  he  will  deliver  the  needy  when  he 

crieth, 
And  the  poor,  that  hath  no  helper.  ..." 

This  was  growing  interesting,  de- 
cidedly ;  for  were  not  Joshua  and  his 
mother  numbered  among  the  needy  ? 
Had  he  not  waked  that  very  morning 
to  find  her  on  her  knees,  calling  on  the 
God  of  the  widowed  and  fatherless  for 
bread?  And  had  not  the  bread  come, 
a  great,  round  loaf  from  their  neighbours 
up  the  hill, — and  that  even  before  the  lad 
had  left  for  school  ?  .  .  . 

"  And  they  shall  live ;  and  to  him  shall  be 
given  of  the  gold  of  Sheba.   .  .  ." 

The  echoing  chorus  was  rudely  shat- 
tered by  a  clear,  shrill  voice  from  the  end 
of  the  half-circle  :  "  Rabbi  Simeon,  who  is 
this  king  to  whom  they  bring  such  gifts  ?  " 

The  old  rabbi  cast  a  startled  and  in- 
17] 


% 


THE       GIFT 

dignant  look  at  Joshua.  "  Peace,  thou 
little  disturber !  Is  it  not  enough  for  thee 
to  learn  thy  Scriptures  without  turning 
them  inside  out  ?  " 

The  little  fellow  shook  his  head. 
•'  Nay,"  said  he  stoutly,  "  but  I  want  to 
know  who  this  king  is  who — who  delivers 

the  needy "  and  his  voice  trailed  off 

into  a  teary  murmur.  The  other  boys 
had  fixed  curious  eyes  on  him ;  they  were 
smiling  at  his  worn  cloak,  wrapped  so 
tight  about  his  shoulders  in  the  chill 
room.  The  rabbi's  eyes  caught  it  all, 
and  softened. 

•"  Had  thine  eyes  been  on  thy  teacher, 
rather  than  on  the  world  yonder,  thou 
needest  not  have  asked.  It  is  the  Messiah 
of  whom  Solomon  speaketh  in  his  Psalm. 
When  he  cometh,  men,  yea,  kings,  will 
lay  before  him  their  best." 

**  Shall  we  see  him  ? "  asked  Joshua 
eagerly. 

[8] 


THE       GIFT 

"  It  may  be,"  answered  Rabbi  Simeon  ; 
"  for  some  do  say  his  time  draweth  nigh," 

"And  what  shall  we  give  him?  What 
shall  I?" 

Rabbi  Simeon  looked  down  at  the 
little  figure  wrapped  in  its  worn  cloak. 
He  knew  how  bare  the  humble  home 
was.  What  had  the  lad  to  give?  The 
other  boys  were  whispering  and  smiling 
derisively.  The  rabbi's  voice  was  some- 
what gentler  still  as  he  answered,  "  Thou 
must  ask  thy  mother,  my  son." 


SK  her  he  did,  that  very 

day.     He  ran  home  from 

the  synagogue,  down  the 

street  to  the  little  stone 

house,  and  in  at  the  door, 

to  throw  his  arms  around  his  mother  and 

cry  into  her   astonished   ears,  "  Mother, 

mother,  what  can  I  give  him  ?  " 

[9] 


THE       GIFT 

"  Nay,  nay,"  she  laughed,  as  she  kissed 
his  brown  cheek  ;  "  save  thy  breath  for  a 
moment,  and  tell  me  what  'tis  all  about. 
Give  whom  ?  " 

"  Messiah." 

*'  Messiah  ?  Hath  Rabbi  Simeon  been 
talking  of  Messiah  ?  " 

Joshua  sat  himself  down  close  by  her 
side,  her  arm  about  his  shoulders. 

*'  Yea,  he  hath,"  he  said  eagerly  ;  "  but 
he  would  not  have  done  it  if  I  had  not 
asked.  Why  can  he  not  tell  things  with- 
out being  asked  ?  " 

"  But  what  did  he  tell  ? "  the  mother 
persisted. 

"  It  was  the  Psalm  of  Solomon, — '  Give 
the  king  thy  judgments,  O  God,' — and 
when  we  came  to  where  the  kings  bring 
gifts,  gold  and — and  other  things — I 
asked  who  he  was — the  one  they  brought 
them  to,  thou  knowest ;  and  Rabbi 
Simeon  said  it  was  Messiah  ;  and  then  I 

[lO] 


lU 


VT^f/* 


THE       GIFT 

asked  if  we  would  see  him,  and  the  rabbi 
said  it  might  be  ;  and  then — I  asked  what 
I  could  give  him — and  the  boys  laughed 
— and  the  rabbi  said  I  should  ask  thee." 

His  voice  was  low,  and  his  lips  were 
trembling.  The  mother's  arm  tightened 
about  him  ;  she  put  her  hand  under  his 
chin,  lifted  his  face,  and  kissed  the  tears 
from  his  cheeks.  Her  own  voice  trembled, 
but  she  spoke  with  a  brave  smile  on  her 
lips  and  in  her  eyes :  "  We  know  not 
when  Messiah  cometh,  son  of  mine.  It 
may  be,  as  the  rabbi  saith,  he  will  come 
shortly.  But  be  thou  of  good  cheer :  if  he 
cometh,  thou  hast  something  very  pre- 
cious to  give  him." 

His  black  eyes  opened  wide.  "  I  ? 
What  have  I  ?  "  He  fingered  his  cloak. 
•'  This  ?  " 

"  Nay  ;  something  better." 

His  eyes  turned  quickly  to  her  hand. 
On  one  worn  finger  gleamed  a  heavy  seal 


*-:rT~" 


THE       GIFT 

ring,  too  large  for  the  boy's  finger  for 
years  to  come. 

"  Nay,  not  thy  fatlier's  ring,"  she  an- 
swered his  question  before  he  could  frame 
it ;  "  something  better  still." 

His  eyes  opened  wider  yet  at  that.  He 
had  not  thought  anything  in  the  world 
more  precious  than  that  ring.  "  Better 
than  father's  ring  ?  "  his  puzzled  voice  re- 
peated ;  and  he  looked  up  into  his 
mother's  face  ardently.  "  What  is  it,  my 
mother?"  ,7 

But  she  would  not  tell.  She  smoothed 
the  tumbled  curls  back  from  his  forehead, 
kissed  the  perplexed  wrinkles  away,  and 
answered  only,  "  Thou  must  find  out  for 
thyself,  my  son." 


1^ 


<zifIli/cZiLs-^ 


THE       GIFT 


ITTLE  Joshua,  coming 
out  of  the  synagogue 
school  on  a  midwinter's 
noon,  found  the  town 
suddenly  alive  with  stran- 
gers. The  shout  of  donkey-drivers,  the 
tinkle  of  camels'  bells,  the  barking  of  dogs, 
mingled  with  cries  of  welcome  as  towns- 
folk and  dusty  wayfarers  recognized  in 
each  other  old  friends  and  kinsfolk.  Be- 
fore ever  Joshua  had  reached  his  home 
through  the  crowd  his  sharp  ears  had 
learned  most  of  what  his  mother,  at  the 
door,  was  waiting  to  tell  him.  These 
were  all  of  their  own  blood,  she  said,  peo- 
ple of  the  tribe  of  Judah  and  of  the  house 
of  David,  come  to  the  home  of  their 
fathers  for  the  census  which  Quirinius,  the 
governor,  had  ordered. 

"  All  our  kinsfolk,  mother  !  "  cried  little 
Joshua,  looking  up  the  thronged  street. 
[■3] 


"  Yea,"  she  answered,  "  and  sorry 
enough  to  come  hither,  too  !  Some  have 
journeyed  even  from  GaUlee, — to  please 
a  Roman ! " 

The  lad  could  scarcely  be  made  to  eat 
his  bread  before  he  was  out  and  up  the 
street.  There  was  but  one  place  where 
any  boy  would  think  of  going  in  such  a 
situation.  It  was  the  khan,  the  inn,  whose 
great  gates  hung  wide  on  their  hinges 
this  day ;  whose  wide  court  echoed  with 
the  hubbub  of  a  crowd  of  men  and 
beasts ;  whose  stalls,  under  the  arches 
around  the  court,  were  filled  to  overflow- 
ing before  the  lad  had  reached  its  deep- 
arched  entrance.  His  black  eyes  opened 
wide  and  wider  as  he  wandered  about, 
now  watching  a  camel  train  kneel  and 
unload,  now  listening  open-mouthed  to 
the  curses  of  a  surly  driver,  now  standing 
by  while  two  old  men,  long  parted,  fell 
on  each  other's  neck  and  wept. 


"i. 


M 


kH 


L'^t3' 


THE       GIFT 

/  At  length  those  eager  eyes  took  in  a 
little  group  standing  to  one  side,  near 
the  archway,  as  if  caught  in  an  eddy  on 
the  edge  of  the  current :  a  woman,  seated 
on  a  cloak  spread  on  an  ass's  back,  and 
a    man,    holding    the   leading-rope   and 

■XlLJ         talking  earnestly  to  Elias  the  gate-keeper. 

TfYl  They  were  Galileans  :  everybody  knew  a 

Galilean  at  sight,  by  his  clothes  and  his 
rustic  air.  Joshua's  eyes  were  fixed  on 
the  woman  now,  and  he  heard  little  of 
what  the  two  men  said.  Her  face  was 
like  his  mother's,  he  thought ;  though 
when  you  came  to  look  closely,  it  was 
very  different  and  had  no  lines  or 
wrinkles  ;  still,  it  was  like  his  mother's 
face,  weary,  and  gentle,  and  clear- 
eyed.  .  .  . 

The  Galilean  pulled  at  the  leading-rope 

and,  with  Elias  leading  the  way,  started 

across  the  court,  the  patient  ass  following 

along  a  winding  way  between  men  and 

[>5] 


r. 


^EM 


^^znnr 


V'T"^^' 


T  H  E       GIFT 


i;\,fi 


beasts  and  bales  and  bundles  of  all  sorts, 
disappearing  at  last  through  the  gate  in 
the  far  wall. 

Joshua  turned  to  other  and  more  excit- 
ing things. 


HE  next  morning  when 
the  little  fellow  sat  up 
and  rubbed  his  eyes,  ht 
saw  his  mother  standing 
by  his  side. 
"  Up,  lazy  one  !  "  she  chid  him  gently, 
smiling  down  at  him.  "  All  the  town's 
awake ;  thy  morning  meal  waits  for  thee  ; 
and  I  have  a  tale  that  will  open  thy 
sleepy  eyes  wide." 

While  they  ate  their  bread  and  lentils 
she  told  him  the  tale.  Lying  awake  far 
into  the  night,  she  had  heard  footsteps 
without,  and  the  voices  of  men  talking 
excitedly  as  they  passed.  Just  a  sentence 
[i6] 


:5S^^^^^ 


tflV 


(I 


H'll—i'ikiX— -'".ll.i;,-  -. 


THE       GIFT 

her  ears  had  caught,  a  voice  she  seemed 

to    know    saying-,    "To    the    khan    first. 

Did  not  the  angel  say  we  would  find  the 

babe  lying  in  a  manger  ?     And  where  so 

likely  as   in   the   crowded   stalls   at   the 

khan  ?  "     Quickly  she  had  risen  and  run 

to  the  door;  but  the  street  was  empty, 

only   the   sound   of   footsteps    faint   and 

fainter   in   the   distance    convincing   her 

that  she  had  not  dreamed.     She  heard 

the  pounding  of  a  stafi  on  wood ;  they 

were    at    the   gate   of    the   khan :    then 

voices  again  dying  away  as  they  were 

admitted  by  the  sleepy  Elias.     The  night 

,  was  still  again.     Back  to  her  pallet-bed 

JJ  she  had  gone,  to  lie  awake,  wondering  at 

/J  what  she  had   heard.     Before  sleep  had 

\   %  touched  her  eyes  she  had  heard  again  the 

voices,  no  longer  talking,  but  singing  as 

they   drew    near    through    the   sleeping 

street.      Again   she   had    stolen    to   the 

door  to  see ;  and  as  she  looked,  the  late 

[17] 


)y^ui,4n^^^  ■ 


THE 


moon  moved  from  behind  a  cloud  and 
silvered  all  the  world.  There  were  the 
men  before  her,  not  strangers,  but  the 
shepherds  from  the  sacrificial  fold  on  the 
hill.  So  they  passed,  their  uplifted  faces 
clear-cut  in  the  moonlight,  their  voices 
ringing  on  the  air  in  the  song  of  an 
ancient  shepherd  of  their  town  : 

"  He  shall  come  down  like  rain  upon  the 

mown  grass, 
As  showers  that  water  the  earth  ; 
In  His  days  shall  the  righteous  flourish, 
And  abundance  of  peace,  till  the  moon 

be  no  more.  ..." 

"  It  is  the  same  Psalm,"  Joshua  broke 
in,  "  the  same  one  we  had  in  school  1 " 

His  mother  nodded.  "  And  now,"  she 
said, — and  her  eyes  sparkled  as  she 
spoke, — "now  comes  the  heart  of  my 
tale.  This  morning  at  daybreak  I  went 
up  to  the  khan  and  asked  Elias  what  had 
happened.  He  gave  me  a  queer  look 
and  a  shrug  of  his  fat  shoulders.     '  There 


h 


^sss^^^^iaJ 


THE       GIFT 


was    a   babe   born    in   the   stable   down 
yonder/  he  said  ;  and  he  laughed." 

Little  Joshua  nodded  his  head.  *'  I 
know,"  he  put  in ;  "  he  wheezes  when 
he  laughs." 

"  So  he  does,"  agreed  his  mother,  with 
a  smile.  "  And  he  said  '  Elon  and  Joses 
and  the  other  shepherds  from  the  hill 
came  in  the  night  with  a  wild  tale  of  an- 
gels and  other  folly  ;  and  nothing  would 
do  but  I  should  take  them  down  to  the 
stable.  And  behold,  down  on  their  knees 
before  the  babe  went  they,  to  worship 
him ! '  And  little  son  of  mine,  what  dost 
think  Elias  heard  them  call  the  babe?" 

The  lad  had  forgotten  his  half-eaten 
breakfast.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  her 
face,  his  hands  tight  clasped.  She  bent 
towards  him,  and  her  voice  fell  as  she 
said,  "  The  Christ !  " 

Joshua's  eyes  widened.     He  looked  at 
her  a  moment,  and  drew  a  long  breath. 
[19] 


^^^^mJ 


E 


"  Oh,  mother,  mother  1 "  he  cried.  "  He 
did  come !  He  did  come !  And  now 
tell  me, — what  can  I  give  him  ?  " 

She  drew  him  close  to  her  and  laughed 
softly,  though  her  voice  had  the  sound  of 
tears  in  it.  "  I  will  not  tell  thee,  little 
son.     Thou  must  find  out  for  thyself." 


V'A 


r:r^ 


i 


n 


l^ 


EVER  did  a  morning  in 
school  pass  as  slowly  as 
that  one.  From  his  seat 
at  the  end  of  the  half- 
circle  Joshua  could,  by 
twisting  his  head,  see  through  the  east- 
ern door  the  wall  of  the  khan ;  and  Rabbi 
Simeon  must  needs  rebuke  him  a  score 
of  times  for  craning  his  neck  to  look  at 
the  world  rather  than  recite  with  the 
others  a  noble  passage  from  the  Mishna. 
Free  at  last,  the  lad  broke  from  the  oth- 
ers  at   the   door   and   darted  down   the 

[20] 


-.^  -^.,-^^ 


THE       GIFT 

street.  He  made  his  way  into  the  court 
of  the  khan,  on  through  the  gate  at  the 
far  side,  and  down  the  slope, — only  to 
find  at  the  stable  door  a  self-appointed 
guard  of  women  who  bade  him  be  off. 

The  rest  of  the  day  he  hung  about  the 
place ;  but  not  till  the  next  afternoon  did 
his  opportunity  come.  The  women,  with 
their  officious  air,  were  not  in  the  way 
when  he  reached  the  stable  door.  He 
cast  a  wary  eye  about  him,  tugged  with 
all  his  weight  at  the  heavy  door  and 
slipped  inside. 

It  was  dark  for  a  moment.  He  heard 
the  cattle  chewing  on  their  cuds  and 
breathing  noisily.  Then  he  could  see 
them,  their  heads  turned  to  give  the  in- 
truder a  mild  regard.  And  then,  from 
the  far  end  of  the  cave,  some  one — a 
man — spoke : 

"Who  art  thou?" 

The  lad  did  not  hesitate.     "Joshua," 

[21] 


]:^^P<^ 


THE       GIFT 


his  clear  young  voice  answered,  shrill 
with  excitement. 

"  Come  hither." 

He  could  see  better  now  as  he  slowly 
stepped  forward.  The  man  sat  on  the 
straw  against  the  wall;  and  beside  him 
lay  a  woman  ;  and  a  babe  was  in  her 
arms. 

He  knew  the  man  and  woman  as  soon 
as  he  saw  them.  They  were  the  Galile- 
ans he  had  seen  in  the  courtyard.  The 
recognition  gave  him  courage.  He  came 
and  stood  before  them  in  silence.  ^ 

"What  wilt  thou,  litde  Joshua?"  asked 
the  woman  softly. 

Joshua  thought  her  more  than  ever 
like  his  mother.  His  eyes  fell  to  the 
child  sleeping  in  her  arms ;  and  he  spoke 
out. 

"  Mother  told  me  the  Christ  had  been 
born  here,  and  I  wanted  to  see  him — to 
give  him  something " 

[22] 


1 


THE      GIFT 

The  two  looked  at  each  other  quickly. 
The  mother  nestled  the  sleeping  babe 
closer  to  her  and  said  quietly,  "  Thou 
sayest.  This  is  the  Christ.  .  .  .  And 
what  wilt  thou  give  him  ?  " 

A  shadow  crossed  the  lad's  face.  He 
hesitated.  "  I  do  not  know,"  he  broke 
out ;  *'  I — I  thought — I  thought  I  might 
ask  you.  Mother  would  not  tell  me. 
She  said " 

He  stopped  short. 

"  She  said  what  ?  " 

He  hung  his  head.  "  She  said  I  must 
find  out  for  myself ;  and  I  have  thought, 
and  thought.  ...  It  is  not  my  cloak — 
nor  my  father's  ring — and  that  is  all  I 
have  1  " 

He  looked  up  pleadingly,  to  find  her 
smiling  into  his  face. 

*'  I  know  what  thy  mother  meant,"  she 
said  ;  "  but  she  is  right.     Thou  must  find 
out  for  thyself.     It  is  very  precious," 
[23] 


THE       GIFT 

"  Will  he  like  it  ?  "  he  queried  eagerly. 

"  Yea,  better  than  gold  or  gems,"  she 
answered  him. 

"  Then,"  said  little  Joshua  bravely, 
fighting  with  the  tears  that  would  come, 
"  I  will  find  out  for  myself,  and  I  will  give 
it  him." 


OR  a  month  and  more 
the  lad  was  the  devoted 
slave  of  the  Galileans. 
The     mother     and    her 

child  had  been  moved  to 

the  upper  room  of  the  khan.  Thither 
Joshua  flew  daily,  as  soon  as  school  was 
out.  He  found  them,  usually,  on  the  flat 
roof  before  their  door,  and  set  himself  to 
serve  them  with  all  the  simple  ardour  of 
a  child's  heart.  When  he  found  that  the 
babe  was  to  bear  the  very  name  he  bore, 
his  eagerness  redoubled.  He  ran  their 
errands  ;  he  fetched  water  for  them  froni 
[24] 


^^5^S^^^ 


7  ■» 


li 


JJT\ 


^ 


the  well,  staggering  under  the  weight  of 
the  water-jar  as  he  panted  up  the  steps  to 
the  roof ;  all  he  asked  was  a  smile  from 
the  young  mother,  or  the  unspeakable 
privilege  of  having  the  babe's  tiny  fist 
close  around  one  of  his  brown  fingers. 
But  as  he  watched  mother  and  child,  ever 
and  anon  his  brow  would  wrinkle  and  his 
face  would  sober ;  and  Mary,  the  mother, 
seeing  it,  would  smile  at  him,  knowing 
that  he  was  puzzling  his  little  head  once 
more  over  the  mystery  of  his  gift  for  the 
Christ-child. 

Then,  suddenly,  came  the  answer ;  and 
on  this  wise  : 

It  was  in  the  night  that  silver  bells  came 
a-tinkling  down  the  street  and  woke  the 
town,  Joshua's  mother,  half  awake, 
stumbled  to  the  door  to  see.  The  lad 
slipped  past  her,  rubbing  his  eyes. 
Through  the  shadows  a  train  of  camels 
was   passing   swiftly  towards   the  khan. 

[25  J 


1  i 


I! 


A  neighbour  running  by  stopped  long 
enough  to  tell  the  news  :  Persians  they 
were,  Wise  Men  from  the  East,  asking 
"  Where  is  he  that  is  born  King  of  the 
Jews?  " — and  the  man  ran  on  towards  the 
khan.  Before  the  mother  could  lay  hand 
on  him,  Joshua  had  followed. 

The  caravan  was  already  in  the  great 
courtyard  when  the  lad  entered  the  gate. 
Torches,  flaring  against  the  walls,  cast  a 
flickering  light  over  the  scene.  Camels 
were  kneeling,  teamsters  already  unload- 
ing the  pack  animals,  silver  bells  still 
softly  tinkling  on  the  empty  saddles  of 
three  tall  dromedaries.  Joshua's  eyes 
sought  the  roof.  A  light  shone  forth 
from  the  door  of  the  upper  room,  and 
figures  stood  dark  against  it.  His  little 
feet  pattered  up  the  outer  stairway. 
Quickly  he  twisted  through  the  group  at 
the  door  till,  under  an  elbow,  he  could 
peer  within.  There  knelt  the  Persians  in 
[26] 


^1 


w 


l^ 

^ 


^^=R^' 


r 


THE       GIFT 


their  flowing  robes,  and  bowed  low  be- 
fore the  babe,  who  lay  close-nestled  in  his 
mother's  arms. 

There  was  a  stir  at  the  door.  Some 
one  thrust  Joshua  aside.  The  servants  of 
the  strangers  entered,  knelt,  and  laid  be- 
fore the  babe  their  burdens,  golden  ves- 
sels that  gleamed  and  sparkled  with  pre- 
cious stones  and  sent  forth  sweet  odours 
that  filled  the  room.  Yet  the  babe  looked 
never  once  at  the  precious  gifts,  but  gazed 
wide-eyed  at  the  light  held  high  beside 
him  by  Elias  the  porter. 

No  one  had  observed  little  Joshua  at 
the  door  ;  and  no  one  noticed  when  he 
i  dj  slipped  away.     Outside,  in  the  dim  star- 

^  light  on  the  roof,  his  mother  found  him 

--  .,    .  with   his  head  on  his  arm,  weeping  bit- 

pi  3         terly.     Her  arm  around  him  and  his  face 
on  her  breast,  she  found  out  his  trouble. 
^  J.  "  Oh,  mother,  mother  !  "  he  said  with 

X^j  quivering  voice  ;  "  they  are  in  there,  and  J 


"f^i 


''^Az-d 


LSS^^^^:5^ 


[^r. 


1 1 


1 


they  have  such  wonderful  gifts  for  the 
Christ,  golden  things,  and  jewels.  .  .  . 
And  I  would  love  to  give  him  something, 
and  I  have  nothing  to  give  ! " 

"  Yea,  thou  hast,"  she  said. 

He  shook  his  head,  his  face  hidden 
against  her.  "  I  have  tried  and  tried,  and 
I  cannot  think  of  anything.  And  I  asked 
the  Christ's  mother,  and  she  just  smiled  like 
you  and  said  I  must  find  out  for  myself." 

"  Look  up  at  me,"  said  his  mother. 

He  raised  his  tear-stained  face  and 
looked  into  her  eyes. 

"Tell  me,  dost  love  thy  mother?" 

He  hugged  her  close  for  an  answer. 

"  And  if  thou  lovest  me,  what  hast 
thou  given  me  out  of  thy  love  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her,  puzzled,  for  a  mo- 
ment ;  then  his  face  cleared.  "  I  know,  I 
know ! "  he  cried,  and  suddenly  broke 
from  her  arms  and  ran  across  the  roof 
and  in  at  the  door  of  the  upper  room. 

[28] 


I 


THE       GIFT 

The  onlookers  in  the  doorway  were 
startled  to  feel  a  slight  form  slip  by  them. 
On  the  ears  of  the  Wise  Men,  as  they  sat 
in  silent  reverence  before  the  Christ-child, 
broke  the  sound  of  a  boy's  shrill  voice. 

"  1  know,  I  know  1  "  it  cried  ;  and  Httle 
Joshua,  before  them  all,  knelt  at  Mary's 
knee,  forgetful  of  the  precious  gifts  that 
lay  about  him,  unconscious  of  indignant 
eyes  that  were  fixed  upon  him.  "  I 
know  !"  he  cried.  "  It  is  my  heart, — my 
heart ! " 

And  Mary,  forgetful,  too,  of  the  starded 
dignity  that  waited  before  her  babe,  smiled 
into  the  lad's  eyes.  "  Thou  hast  said,"  she 
answered  him.     "  It  is  thy  heart." 

The  lad  laughed  aloud  in  his  joy.  "  I 
gave  him  that  long  ago,"  he  said.  His 
brow  wrinkled  for  an  instant,  and  he 
looked  at  the  child,  then  at  the  mother, 
questioningly. 

Mary  answered  his  unspoken  query  : 
[29] 

-^Arfii,S,.,\.. ^ s^J-y^m  *i--—  -l-w^-'''- 


V 


{a 


"  Thou    must    grow    up    before   he   can 
claim  thee  as  his  very  own." 

He  nodded  solemnly  ;  and  then,  with 
sudden  thought,  "  How  will  he  find  me?" 
he  asked. 

•'  Never  fear,"  the  mother  said.  "  He 
will  find  his  own. — And  now — yonder  is 
thy  mother  at  the  door." 

Suddenly  conscious  of  a  room  full  of 
people  whose  astonished  and  indignant 
eyes  were  fixed  on  him,  the  little  fellow 
turned  to  flee,  only  to  be  halted  by  the 
upraised  hand  of  one  of  the  Persians. 

"Tell  me,  my  son,"  said  the  Wise 
Man's  deep  voice  in  Joshua's  own 
tongue,  "  what  hast  thou  done  ?  What 
dost  thou  know?" 

Joshua  hung  his  head  in  shame,  re- 
membering Rabbi  Simeon's  many  re- 
proofs for  his  ill-manners. 

The  voice  of  Mary  came  to  his  defense: 
'*  He  did  but  bring  a  gift  to  my  babe." 
[30] 


:^3s^'^-^^^^ 


THE       GIFT 


"  And  thy  gift,  my  son, — what  was 
it?" 

The  lad  was  silent,  eyes  on  the  floor. 

"  Speak,"  said  Mary  softly. 

He  raised  his  head,  found  himself  look- 
ing into  the  Wise  Man's  deep  eyes,  saw 
there  no  hint  of  anger,  took  courage 
and  whispered,  "  My  heart." 

The  room  was  silent.  The  golden 
lampHght  danced  on  the  wondrous  jewels 
on  the  floor;  it  set  the  precious  stones  en- 
crusting them  to  sparkling  madly ;  it 
lighted  up  the  face  of  the  babe  sleeping 
in  his  mother's  arms. 

The  Wise  Man  spoke  again ;  and  there 
seemed  to  be  in  his  voice  a  sigh  as  for 
something  lost.  "  It  is  the  best  gift  of  all, 
my  son.  Better  thy  heart  than  our  gold. 
Peace  to  thee,  and  to  the  mother  that 
hath  taught  thee  this." 

And  at  that  litde  Joshua,  released  from 
the  spell  that  had  bound  him,  fled  from 
[31] 


^^ 


\i    i:  1 

I!'  I       •  .■  i 

III- 

f 


i 


]% 


THE       GIFT 

the  room  and  found  refuge,  out  in  the 
night,  in  his  mother's  arms. 

"  Didst  thou  wish  it  ?"  he  whispered. 

In  the  darkness  she  smiled  and  patted 
his  curly  head. 

"  Wish   it  ?     Thy   father   and    I   gave 
thee  to  the  Christ  at  thy  birth.     Only — 1 
wanted  thee  to  find  it  out  for  thyself." 
\"  But  thou  didst  help  me,"  said  Joshua. 

And  at  that  his  mother  laughed  a  quiet 
little  laugh.  "  Yea,  verily,"  she  said ; 
"  but  mothers  must  always  help.  .  .  . 
Come,  it  is  midnight,  and  little  lads  must 
have  sleep." 

So  little  Joshua,  leaving  his  heart  with 
the  sleeping  babe,  went  down  with  his 
mother,  through  the  starlit  streets,  to 
dream  of  the  day  when  the  Christ,  a  man 
grown,  should  seek  him  out  and  claim 
his  own. 


Date  Due 


PS3503.U8G45 

The  gift  .an  idyll  of  Bethlehem. 


m\mmMT,Z,''  Sem.nary-Speer  L.brary 


1    1012  00081   6472 


C 


